A Hellion at the Highland Court (The Highland Ladies #9) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,45

you will marry in haste.” Laurel disregarded Sarah Anne’s taunt, pretending to be set on her course to her chamber. But Sarah Anne refused to be ignored. “You had best pray Laird Campbell doesn’t delay having the banns read, lest you deliver an eight moon bairn.”

Laurel ground her teeth, repeating the queen’s advice that she curb her tongue. Sarah Anne’s accusation that she might be pregnant made many of the ladies gasp, and Laurel heard a fresh wave of whispers follow in her wake.

“Liam and Nelson will have their noses out of joint since they have lost their wager,” Margaret mused.

“They have not. Laird Campbell must show up to his wedding. He might still run all the way back to the Highlands before he shackles himself to the Shrew of Stirling,” Sarah Anne corrected.

“Do you think he would really jilt her?” Emelie asked.

“Wouldn’t you?” Sarah Anne asked.

“Lady Laurel,” Brodie’s masculine voice made the women jump. He stepped away from the wall against which he leaned just beside Laurel’s door. “I’ve come to escort you to the evening meal.”

Laurel’s smile was tight as she nodded. “Thank you. I will only be a moment. My maid Ina should already have my gown ready.”

“No need to hurry,” Brodie assured her, bringing her hand to his lips when she stopped in front of him.

Laurel told herself to relax when Brodie smiled, but the other women’s presence put her nerves on edge. She nodded and slipped into her chamber, relieved to find Ina awaiting her. Laurel considered the gown Ina had selected, wishing she hadn’t worn her newly reconstructed gown so recently. She twisted her lips from side to side, knowing the king would announce their betrothal that night. While Ina chose one of Laurel’s more favorite gowns, it was rather subdued. Narrowing her eyes as she considered what hung in her armoire, Laurel’s lips twitched before she drew them in to keep from grinning. She crossed the chamber and flung open the doors, pulling out the one she desired.

Sensing her lady’s impatience, Ina worked quickly to lace Laurel into the dress she selected before her deft fingers created an intricate coiffure of braids and ribbons. When Ina finished, Laurel beamed at her maid. What Ina accomplished in a hurry impressed her.

“You’ve done a wonderful job, Ina. I don’t thank you nearly enough for all that you do for me. Please know that I appreciate it all,” Laurel said as she stooped to kiss the older woman’s cheek. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“Och, ma lady, wheest. Ye’ll have me blubbering into ma hanky,” Ina chuckled. “Go to yer mon. He’s been pacing in yon passageway for at least the last half hour.”

“He has?” Laurel asked as she glanced at the door.

“Aye. Gave me a right fright, he did, when I came around the corner with the pitcher of warm water. Nearly sloshed the entire thing down the front of me.” Ina grinned. “I nearly forgot! The laird asked me to give ye this.” The maid moved to the window embrasure and lifted something Laurel hadn’t noticed. She sucked in a whistling breath when she recognized the swath of Campbell plaid. She took it from Ina and held it up to her face. She could smell a trace of Brodie’s scent on the wool. He’d worn his own breacan feile the entire time he’d been at court, which many Highlanders abandoned in favor of breeks and a doublet. Brodie would have draped the plaid she held over his shoulder if he opted for the Lowland attire. Instead, it now draped over Laurel’s. She moved to her jewelry box, a moment of regret that none of her jewels were real or fine enough to compliment the Campbell plaid, but she selected a brooch and clasped the sash as her waist on the opposite side from where it covered her shoulder.

“I wish ye happy, ma lady,” Ina said as she opened the door for Laurel.

“Laurie,” Brodie breathed as he turned to watch Laurel enter the passageway. She took his breath away. Her cream gown made her alabaster skin glow, while it made her hair shimmer like flames beside snow. She was the image of fire and ice, innocence and passion. The stitching along the top of her skirts just below her waist was exquisite. But it was his plaid resting over her heart that made him smile with happiness. She fingered the hem of the plaid with unease, and Brodie realized she wasn’t certain how to interpret